


Ode To Sydney

by fandomfairytales



Series: Ben & Poe Take on 'Straya [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (Psst Phasma is basically me guys-minus the bad driving), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Ben Solo vs Nature, Ben and Poe are the best brothers, Ben be nakey, Chinatown Sydney, Circular Quay, Darling Harbour, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Here we go everyone, I pronounce it wrong ironically, I've written a fic to complain about tourism, It's me so of course I made a Manly joke, Manly Beach, Manly Ferry, Mutual Pining, North Steyne, Ocean Puns, Paddy's Markets, Phasma Ships It, Phasma being called Phazza is the best character adaptation for an AU I've ever done, Rey is here for it, Shameless Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Surf Instructor! Rey, Sydney - Freeform, Teasing, and the God damn Aussie heat, basically a subtle travel guide, can i still tag it, idc if it's OOC, my demi babies dont want a one time thing, straya, the crowds at Bondi, the spiral fountain is a real thing guys, they're both terrible at playing it cool, you might think this was inspired by Blue Hawaii and you'd be right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 22:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19343803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfairytales/pseuds/fandomfairytales
Summary: Written for RTC Summer Vibes Reylo Fest 2019Prompt: "Sure stranger, I'll help you find your bikini top/swim trunks."Ben and Poe travel Down Under.Slang is used, driving on the left is the right way to do it, trams are under construction, thongs aren't underwear and if you checked the lost and found box at Manly Surf Life Saving Club, you'd find a suspicious pair of red boardshorts that helped two strangers find love.





	Ode To Sydney

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so before we get started, I will be adding an epilogue to this. I know it's not the usual, but it was supposed to be part of this in the first place until I lost like 5000 words days before the deadline in a freak accident. So for the sake of a proper ending that doesn't feel like I forgot to tie up loose ends, I will be adding it as soon as I can (also because I need more of Poe and Finn in this AU). 
> 
> I also wanted to direct you all to the endnotes because I really wanted to share some little anecdotes, facts and the like for fun (and atmosphere)...this is my ode to home and I thought you all might enjoy it, fellow countrypeople or not :) (tbh this is the most patriotic I've felt writing a fic and you can probs tell I'm a lil proud of it)
> 
> I would also like to point out that my weird looking dashes and slashes were intentional (can you tell they're meant to be lightsabers? idk).
> 
> Anyhoo, enjoy <3

 

 

-/- \

“Come on Ben, it’s Australia! Who doesn’t want to go and soak up a little sun and saltwater? You never know, you might have fun? Maybe even get a tan? God knows you need the extra vitamin D, ya pasty fucker.”

In hindsight, when his _adopted_ brother Poe (thus the glaring lack of similarities between them) won a few grand off his annual scratch card from their uncle Lando and decided to jet off to the second driest continent on earth; for the sake of his lack of tan, he should have declined outright (if only to save himself the inevitable sunburn).

If he had, maybe he could have saved himself agonizing, unforgettable, embarrassment, half-way around the world. But no. Life was cruel, fate was a wicked mistress and there was no one that could save him from the wrath of mother nature.

So, why the need for over dramatic waxing about how terrible taking a holiday is?

Simple. There was a girl involved.

One of those ‘too gorgeous to possibly exist’ girls that rob your heart blind with a smile and a kind word.

 

-/- \

Airports were a hellscape all their own. Weaving through throngs of distracted travellers and wailing children, zealous brother in tow, with one busted wheel on his cumbersome suitcase, was not Ben Solo’s idea of an ideal morning.

He’d much rather be at home, relaxing in his favoured window seat with his nose in a book, surrounded by blissful silence in place of announcements so distorted he couldn’t understand them. What possessed him to follow Poe ‘Down Under’, he would never know but there he was, boarding his flight, neck pillow and an eye mask in hand.

It certainly wasn’t his first foray into travel, simply more on the unusual side. He was well aware his lane involved museums, cobblestones, classical architecture, art and dust; so, naturally, on his way to the land of surf, sun and larrikins, there was one pastime he was convinced Poe would not let him sit out.

The same moment he found out he won, the only thing on his mind (except a chance at new hunting grounds) was picking up a surfboard shaped piece of wood, foam or fibreglass, to his younger brother’s chagrin.

Now, Ben naturally enjoyed keeping fit, he paid his dues for the shape he was in and certainly didn’t mind sports, provided they didn’t involve more than one other player (no one would want him on their team anyway); but anything that required as much coordination as surfing was just a given no-no with his lack of coordination.

An accident of colossal proportions was bound to occur. A fact he was so overwhelmingly certain of, it kept him up on the gruelling flight over.

Hours later, mussed, red-eyed and particularly grouchy, they exited Sydney airport and walked right into temperatures one local aptly compared to ‘Satan’s arse crack’. A wave of tangible, shimmering heat enveloped them, no hint of air conditioning following behind to soothe the burn of Australian summer.

“Santa Maria, can we go back!?”

“Hey, you’re the one that dragged me here, I’m not spending my vacation time in an airport.”

“Chill out, Ben” Poe sniggered, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and making a beeline for the taxi rank, leaving him to trail along behind. “We’re here for fun times and good weather, not your damn sarcasm.”

“Somehow, I have a feeling chilling out will literally be impossible…” Ben snarked back, leaving Poe at the trunk with his bag for good measure.

Clambering into a taxi, wearing colourful shorts Poe had convinced him would be necessary when they checked their arrival forecast (it came as a shock to see triple digits in Fahrenheit), was a completely new kind of nightmare.

His decidedly large frame and long legs were extremely uncooperative, sticking to the vinyl back seat with an almost painful adherence as he shuffled over, worsened by the branding he got when he went to buckle his seatbelt. It became abundantly clear that Australia, in the middle of a heatwave was a highly inconvenient destination, no matter how soothing the beer and beaches supposedly were.

And the day was still so young; He never could have anticipated the clusterfuck that was Sydney traffic, nor the madness of attempting to drive on George Street to reach their hotel. At least the taxi driver was able to provide, by way of entertainment, a long and detailed history of how idiotic the Government was to rid the city of its old tramways in favour of buses etc. etc., only to spend billions replacing it decades later.

And yet for all the inconvenience of the morning, Ben couldn’t deny he was still a little excited to explore the place. More so when their portly, elder driver became incensed by the mention of their plan to go straight to Bondi.

“Mate, there’s better beaches than that crowded shithole.”

“But everyone always says-”

“Fuck what everyone says, sure it’s nice on the postcards, got the show on the telly; but you’re swimmin’ in there with thirty thousand other people on a day like today… Think about it boys. Take ya pictures and swim somewhere else.”

A moment of palpable disgust passed between them and Ben decided that maybe taking the driver’s advice had merit.

“Where would you suggest we go then?”

“The whole bloody city’s coastal, take ya pick! There’s Manly, Maroubra, Cronulla… Clovelly, Bronte, Coogee, Dee Why, Collaroy, some of ‘em even have rockpools… or Palm Beach, where they film Home and Away… ”

The more he listed, the less Ben understood Australian place names (What on earth is a ‘Coogee’? Sounded like something one might say to a baby) and sympathised with the man’s personal vendetta against his country’s most famous stretch of sand. He also stifled a brief laugh at his pronunciation of ‘cunt-ry’.

Pulling up at their hotel, he was hit with what he would later realise was a national sense of relief and contentment at entering an air-conditioned building. Waiting in line to check in, he watched three other families enter and sigh with joy at the frigid air.

“So, are we going to take his advice?”

“Oh sure, it makes sense, I’m thinking Manly sounds like good hunting grounds too.”

Ben rolled his eyes with a humoured huff; his brother was truly something else, totally incorrigible.

“Sure Poe, wiping out is definitely going to reel in the bachelors.”

“Don’t be such a grump Benny, who knows, maybe my inability will come off as charming and funny?”

Unfortunately, he didn’t get to respond, they were waved over to check in, putting an end to their repartee.

“Hi there, I’m Finn, how can I help you.”

He could practically feel Poe’s attraction radiating outward at first sight of the concierge; smiling internally, he pretended he didn’t exist, shrinking in on himself and pursing his lips, in an effort to let Poe do the talking.

In a race as old as ages, they were off; a well-timed smirk here, a giggle there, both parties leaning in to be nearer and it was clear that Finn was most definitely picking up Poe’s vibe.

A week later and he had his number.

‘Good for him’

Ben had always admired Poe’s ability to flirt, chasing what he wanted with sometimes reckless abandon. Most of the time he roped Ben into being his wingman, despite the fact he was so reserved; He had perpetually screwed himself out of… well, screwing (barring the awkward experience of losing his virginity and a tryst in a broom closet with a coworker). Poe never thought less of him for it, but the thought of ‘If only you were more like him’ fluttered about in his mind on occasion.

With numbers promptly and slyly exchanged over the desk and a last salacious wink, Ben steered his wayward brother toward the elevators, pressing the button for their floor as quickly as he could.

“That looked promising?”

“Yep, when he gets off we’re going for drinks…” Ben tapped his foot, waiting for Poe to make his predictable punchline. “Then maybe he’ll get off another way.”

If anything summed up their relationship it was Poe making dumb, dirty jokes and Ben doing his best not to be inappropriate laughing about it. Family galas were the worst for that reason.

Reaching their room, Ben immediately set the thermostat to its lowest setting before getting started on unpacking essentials while Poe showered.

An age later his brother emerged, dressed and looking frustrated enough to make Ben sit up on his elbows curiously (he’d spent the time starfished, enjoying cold cotton against his skin).

He watched Poe grumble to himself, catching every few words or so.

“Fucking hell… Whoever invented humidity was a sadist… God damn it… The fuck am I supposed to-? Jesus, for the love of all that is holy, please save my hair…”

“So, I guess we’re not going out?”

Poe turned on his heel, snapped out of his ranting.

“Huh?”

Ben gestured nonchalantly at his head and waited for his subtle tease to sink in, immediately regretting it; Instead of a witty barb, Poe decided to go for the old ‘tackle and muss’ technique until his (not so) little brother looked sufficiently dishevelled.

“Well go on Ben, better fix that mess so we can leave.” He stated sarcastically.

“Whatever, at least I won’t come out frizzy.” Ben snarked back while bolting for the bathroom with an armful of toiletries and clothes.

“You take that back!”

Ben shut the bathroom door firmly behind him with a filthy smirk, before Poe could ‘make him’.

 

-/- \

Chinatown Sydney was something of an oddity, nothing like New York that much was certain. Far simpler, and fittingly incoherent, spanning outside the pedestrian-only Dixon Street (more of a big alley really); it was an enticing mix of art, Asian cuisines, food courts, fusion foods and an Aussie pub that miraculously worked in tandem to live up to its ‘cultural melting pot’ label.

With the lights of the Capitol Theatre billboard flashing away at the other end of the street, Chinese style, archway gates flanked by bronze statues and trees, the sound of the tram coming and going, and the bustle of people in and around Paddy’s markets, it was almost otherworldly.

Following their noses, they struggled to find somewhere to eat, it was all tempting, until Poe had the bright idea to watch and see where the locals flocked.

Minutes later they were in a crowded underground food court, surrounded by plastic trays laden with food so appealing Ben had to remind himself to swallow, lest he drool in public. They ate like kings for a pittance compared to what they would have spent elsewhere and walked out congratulating each other, only to discover that no, it did not get cooler once the sunset.

Heading back the way they came; Ben intending to settle in and sleep off the jet lag while Poe caught up with the concierge, they came across what had to be one of the longest queues Ben had ever seen.

It stretched on for ages, to the point it tripled over itself, forcing passers-by to weave their way through the gaps.

“What the hell?”

“I know right!”

Ben slowed, excitedly searching for the end to join, much to Poe’s annoyance.

“No-no-noooooo, don’t stop- uugh, really Ben?”

“Don’t you wanna find out what it’s for?”

“Oh, don’t look at me so doe-eyed and innocent, this is a waste of time and you know it. Why don’t you just look for the-?” he came up empty in his search for a sign “Oh.” He continued flatly “-You really want to stand here just to find out why everyone is lining up?”

Poe cocked his brow, an expression that hoped to make Ben reconsider.

It did not.

Ben shuffled along with everyone else, occupying himself looking at the cakes in the vibrant neon window of the Chinese bakery next door, with Poe fidgeting away beside him, his anxiety increasing as time ticked by.

“I’m going to be late, you asshole!”

“I never said you had to wait with me, Poe.”

“Yes, but you got me all interested with your long lines and your damn curiosity.”

“And? I’m not stopping you?”

“Yes, you damn well are! last time this happened, you found that amazing food truck with the stroopwafels in Amsterdam…”

“Oh yeah… I forgot about those!”

“Exactly! So, no, I’m not leaving until we buy whatever _thing_ is at the end of this line.” He crossed his arms with a decisive pout. “-At least I won’t have to think of revenge… We’ve got surf lessons at eleven.”

“Uuugh, God help me… Where?

“Manly. Finn recommended someone, said she was ‘sweet as’ and very good with balance challenged beginners.”

“Fiiiine.” He groaned into his hands, filled with dread.

The wait, as it turned out was well worth it. They reached the little window in the wall and were immediately intoxicated by the smell of vanilla.

“How many?”

A quick glance at each other, another peek at the price chart, and their choice was made for them.

Both Poe and Ben walked away from the window with containers packed to bursting with gooey-centred, ‘Emperor’s cream puffs’. Hands snuck into bags as they walked back up the hill to their hotel, and in seconds, both brothers stood in the middle of the street with watering eyes, having miscalculated just how hot the filling was.

Hint; it was practically volcanic, a mouthful of the most delicious lava. Really should have come with a warning; ‘Caution! Hot! Might burn face off, melt tongue or both.’

It was torture, waiting for the rest to cool off, but once they were edible Ben couldn’t stop himself, finishing the whole box (they were that good), thankful that Poe had already departed and wasn't a witness

 

-/- \

The following day, feeling sufficiently rested, Ben found himself alone in their room.

“Good on you, Poe.”

Well aware he was talking to no one, Ben flipped on the TV and left it on the news while he made coffee staring absentmindedly out the window, watching the traffic below.

Another beautiful day. Sunny and not a cloud in sight; he was wiser now though, and Poe had been right about packing shorts.

Before Poe finally waltzed in around nine, Ben had dressed, applied sunscreen and packed beach gear for the both of them, shooing him right back out the door and into the elevator before he could protest or delay.

Walking to Central station, Ben waited to receive the customary details of Poe’s midnight adventures, distracting himself looking for platform 17.

Prone to oversharing, he prepared himself for the onslaught of innuendo, only to find that Poe was being surprisingly tight-lipped. Feeling somewhat awkward, he decided to probe for answers.

“So, how did last night go?”

“Great actually.”

“Just great?”

“Yep, Finn is lovely, just a really nice, genuine guy.”

“So, are you going to see him again?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Definitely acting weird.

“Well that’s-” He paused, not knowing what to say. “-Nice.”

“Yep…”

Their train pulled up (slightly late of course) and they boarded quickly, searching for seats in awkward silence.

“IthinkI’minlovewithhim.” Poe blurted, just above a whisper.

Ben stumbled, looking down wide-eyed at his suddenly bashful brother and slumped into the empty row they had been approaching.

“You… Wha… You’re? How?”

Poe joined him, looking almost defeated.

“I don’t even know… I have about as much of an idea as you do actually” He laughed dryly “…I made such an ass of myself last night, you have no idea! And Finn, he just laughed with me every time I fucked up. First with the wine, oh my god, you should have seen it, I spilt it everywhere; then we went for a walk around Darling Harbour, everything was going fine, we got gelato and he showed me this spiral, fountain thing and I fucking slipped over - God, I can’t even”- Poe buried his face into his free palm with shame “-I fell right on my ass and took him down with me, the cone hit some old lady in the face and he just apologised smooth as you please, waited for her to walk away before we broke down giggling like lunatics… You know how Dad used to say; ‘When you know, you just know?’ It was like that, but times a million.”

“And this is bad, why?”

“Becaaause-” He over-enunciated “-It can’t happen...”

“We’re here for three weeks. A lot can _happen_.”

“Since when are you the optimistic one?”

“Since my brother decided he liked someone enough to feel guilty about a one-night thing.”

“Oh, we didn’t… I stayed over, but it wasn’t like that.”

“Well then; case, meet point.”

He nudged Poe playfully, drawing a smile and quickly made up his mind to do what he could to help. Poe’s last real relationship had been a verifiable disaster and Ben was determined to see his brother happy, now that it was over.

To say his heart had been broken would be an understatement. Poe took the betrayal harder than anyone thought possible, believing that it was his fault for not listening to the family’s reservations about Armitage Hux sooner.

It crushed Ben to see his brother so depressed in the aftermath but seeing the way Finn lit up from the front desk as they made their hasty exit minutes ago, proved there was a solid reason to offer his support.

“Why don’t you just see how it goes, enjoy the time you have while you have it?”

“I know you’re right…” Poe slumped further into his seat and sighed deeply “But I feel like I’m watching myself get punched in slow motion; I know it’s going to hurt but I haven’t decided if I’m going to dodge or take it on the chin.”

“At least you have a few weeks to make up your mind?”

“Ugh, sure. But that’s enough of that; why the hell are we on a train, I thought it was supposed to be a ferry ride?”

“Well, unless you wanted to walk all the way down to the terminal in this heat…?”

“No! God no.”

“It was easier to take the train to Circular Quay, then get the ferry to Manly.”

“Do you think locals laugh when people pronounce it ‘kway’ or ‘kay’ instead of ‘key’? I know I would.”

Ben resisted the urge to snort at Poe repeating the word to himself, naturally, it was up to him to pay attention and watch for their stop, when it came, he shouldered Poe out, exiting the station and finally understanding why people raved about the area.

For a functioning harbour it was exactly as advertised; Postcard picturesque. The Bridge, Luna Park (add that to the list of activities they would cover), gorgeous blue water… His camera was out in an instant.

He didn’t think the view could improve until the ferry departed. Cutting through the glinting, rippling surface, passing under the iconic harbour bridge… It was a commute Ben would have killed to make daily. The locals on the other hand barely noticed unless it was to mutter ‘tourists’ under their breath at their slack-jawed expressions.

Taking in the coast and the suburbs surrounding the water, Ben felt a strange sense of affinity with the city. It was a jumble of ideas and architecture; no sense of plan (the roads were clear evidence of that), just sprawling suburban existence, accompanied by a need to take in the landscape from home.

Manly in itself was gorgeous. The tiny glimpse of the sea as they walked through the Corso only served to build anticipation. Bustling with people, it felt nothing like part of a city, it was practically small town in atmosphere and manner, and Ben revelled in the sense of peace and relaxation it provided.

Footpath, glaringly hot sand and pristine ocean on the one side; cafes, fish and chip shops, pubs and stores on the other, and to top it all off the air was fresh. A commodity most cities wouldn’t dare to boast of, but here, you could practically bottle the salty air and sell it.

If he hadn’t been convinced of the benefits a holiday to Australia held, he certainly was now.

As they walked toward the south end in search of the surf school, Ben quickly discovered ‘Manly beach’ was a technical misdirection. Because evidently, Australians liked to fuck with tourists, there were three beaches on the one stretch.

Queenscliff, North Steyne and then Manly at the southernmost end.

Having walked all the way to Manly Surf Lifesaving Club with no instructor in sight, Ben and Poe were both feeling a little put out. Their expressions blending with the locals, who at first sight would appear to be quite grumpy, but were in actual fact, squinting and grimacing at the 40-degree heat.

Poe was the first to break and ask for directions. Approaching a tall, statuesque blonde who he decided had to know where to go because ‘she had those red and yellow lifesaver clothes on and was talking into a radio.’

“Excuse me…Um, sorry-” He gently tapped her on the shoulder “-Can you tell us how to find the surf school?”

“Americans huh?” she clipped the walkie-talkie to her bum-bag with a last crackle of static from the other end and offered her hand to shake.

“Yep, practically fresh off the boat…”

“Figures you two need lessons then, but at least you look like you can swim- You can swim, can’t you?- We get so many bloody people down here that’ve never set foot in the water, you can imagine how well that goes for ‘em, some days I swear I can’t be arsed saving em…Kidding! I’m Phasma by the way.”

Poe turned on the charm and even Ben managed a little smile as they introduced themselves and confirmed that yes, they were more than capable of not requiring rescuing.

“Good, then I won’t have to send someone in after you.” She chuckled lightly to herself. “Anyways, sorry, got side-tracked, you needed directions; the surf school is back the way you came, up near the North Steyne club, that yellowy brown building-” she pointed beyond them “-and the gal you’re looking for is Rey; short, brown hair, usually in three buns, can’t miss her.”

“Thanks so much.”

“More than welcome; besides, around here, lifesaver also doubles as ‘information’, we tend to stick out.” She paused, chuckling at her own bright attire “Oh, and when you see Rey, tell her Captain Phazza says hi.”

“Captain?”

“Patrol captain.” She explained before walking off with a wave “-You boys have fun, if you get a fin chop, come find me… AND STAY BETWEEN THE FLAGS!”

“What the hell is a fin chop?”

“How the hell would I know, Poe?”

 

-/- \

One thing Ben Solo had not been prepared for was the overwhelming truth behind Phasma’s casual ‘you can’t miss her’ comment.

He spotted Rey amongst the crowd with ease. Her signature hairstyle was recognisable, yes, but she was literally more radiant than the sun beating down on them from above, she was sea nymph born of sand, salt and coconut scented sunscreen, a vision in black neoprene.

So, naturally, Ben couldn’t manage a single, eloquent word with the exception of ‘um’ when she introduced herself in a warm British accent and started making small talk.

Eventually, his brain managed to catch up at some point between attempting to put on a damp rashie (seriously, who needs to abbreviate rash shirt? Australian’s apparently) and finding a board that suited his height.

It took all of two seconds to lose control again during the latter activity, for the simple fact, he was ninety-eight percent sure she had attempted to flirt with him in the most adorably awkward way possible.

“Well, the rashie might have been too small, but at least the board will be as proportionate as the rest of you.”

The look on her face as she realised how her words may have been (read; were) taken was priceless.

“I, uh… Oh! Not that-” she laughed nervously, trailing off into a distracted sigh “Just, tall… I mean, you’re tall and you need a big board-! God, I’m sorry, I’m just making it worse.” She buried her head in her hands, skin flushed, ripe with embarrassment.

“It’s okay, I knew what you meant.”

He tried to reassure her, but frankly, he was still stuck on the dreamy way she had looked up at him, distracted mid-explanation/apology.

“By the way, _‘Captain Phazza’_ told me to say hi when we found you.”

She giggled, leaving him reeling.

“Gotta love Phas, she’s one of a kind that one. Best lifeguard we have around here even if she does have the record for most boats flipped in a season…”

Was it wrong to already know that he was in love with the way she got sidetracked? Barrelling right into telling him a hysterical story about the time she and Phas flipped an IRB (Inflatable Rescue Boat) on a call out, throwing them both out and wrecking equipment worth thousands when it smashed against the rocks. He was in stitches by the time she described their attempts to flip it, paddling it back to shore and their completely stereotypical punishment of buying slabs (of beer); The way she spoke it was like they’d been best friends for years and he simply couldn’t comprehend it, instant connections had never been his thing and yet.

How could lightning possibly strike twice? First Poe, and now _he_ was losing his head. Maybe there was something in the water? Who could say? But from where Ben stood, he was in deep trouble.

Little did he know more was riding in on the building swell.

Surf lessons, paired with a strange and immediate attraction for the instructor was torture worthy of the finest perverts in the only place further south (barring Antarctica and arguably hotter) than they were.

“So, we’re going to cover a few basics before we get out in the water, just see how we go and hopefully get you all standing up by the end.”

She repeated herself, seeing a few confused faces among them and set her board down on the sand, instructing them to dig a small hole for the fin.

And then… God help him.

Then, she laid down on her board and totally lost him. Simply put; he felt awful about the fact he could not take his eyes off her breasts. He tried to hide his enraptured stare in his movements, at least he had enough mental capacity to force his body to follow what she was doing, but for the most part, he was unsuccessful.

Next, they practised the correct way to stand (should one of them manage to actually catch a wave) and Ben thanked every god and star in the heavens that he’d managed to calm himself down enough to not make a complete fool of himself.

With his concentration somewhat restored in the middle of learning the variety of signals she might use to communicate, he discovered she had a sharp wit and dreadful (read: wonderful) sense of humour, regaling them with near constant ocean-related puns, whilst giving the most genuine encouragement he’d ever seen from someone working in the tourist/service industry.

Once directed at him, Ben had wanted to die laughing; her enthusiastic ‘Yeah, _Buoy_!’ was so terribly in line with his own sense of humour, even Poe quipped that he hadn’t smiled so widely in years. By then, he was certain this woman had to be his soulmate.

“Well, you’re all looking _fin-tastic_. So, I think we better get you all a good dose of vitamin _sea_ ”

The fluent English speakers in the group collectively chuckled, following awkwardly behind her, trying not to trip on their leg ropes as they walked.

“One last time everyone! What’s the golden rule?!”

“Don’t let go of your board!” They called back in unison, wading out into the water on her signal.

There was a natural level of idiocy that came with trying something new; Having split their formative years between parents and continents, there had never been an opportunity to take up the activity over the summer (kind of difficult when you’re inside various European embassies and then back in New York for the winter), as much as it seemed like a fun way to spend a day at the beach, both brothers quickly came to find that coordination went out the window first. Thus, leaving room for crippling embarrassment with each wipeout.

Poe was naturally the first to manage a brief stand before toppling off (it was a consolation he nosedived and bit the sandbank, putting an abrupt end to his smarmy taunting). Ben, having honed his competitive spirit (and their sibling rivalry) over the years, was only driven to push himself harder, ending up with mouthfuls of water each time he stood and still no closer to besting ten seconds on his feet (a minuscule achievement, but he did come close with eight).

For a moment he almost forgot about Rey, lost in bantering with his brother; wondering why they were mostly left to their own devices, all it took was a glance over at the rest of the group to understand why Phasma was so triggered. Rey was knee deep (literally and figuratively) in students who appeared to have never set foot in the water before.

It was a credit to her that she hadn’t lost her patience with them, it was meant to be a more intermediate level class, all that time spent explaining technique, etc. had been for nought and she was relegated to standing in the shallows, pushing each one onto waves that barely reached her incredibly toned thighs.

Sitting further out, behind the break on his board (catching the odd wave in), Ben really shouldn’t have let himself become so distracted. Another rule Rey had mentioned, while he was too busy attempting to get his body under control, was never turning your back on the waves. It was a wise suggestion, and one Ben wished he’d taken more seriously.

As he watched her cheering on one of the ladies that had managed to stand, a set began to break behind him, racing for the shore and picking him up with it. Unprepared and much too far forward, the nose of his board plunged into the sand. Having only just managed to shield his head, he was focused on providing his protesting lungs with oxygen and missed the fact that the wave had taken more of his dignity than first thought.

Breaking the surface after the other two waves passed over him it took seconds to realise just how bad the situation was.

He was, ashamedly, naked as the day he was born, board shorts nowhere in sight.

FuckfuckfuckfucK _FUCK_!

Scrambling frantically to swim further out, his entire body flamed in contrast with the cool water. Flustered and unsure, he wondered if he was dreaming, surely luck this bad had to be a figment of his imagination?

Nope, nothing more than wishful thinking.

A pinch quickly proved his state and Ben was forced to accept that his nightmare was of the waking sort.

Overexposed and vulnerable, he thanked his lucky stars his leg rope held, keeping hold of his board helped to cover up a little (not really, but that’s what he needed to tell himself), and at least he wouldn’t tire too much.

Treading water until he could plan an escape was worse than originally thought, his only option was waiting for Poe to look his way and attempt to flag him down, then ride out the inevitable teasing and beg him for the shorts in his bag, otherwise it was going to be a long and painfully embarrassing trip to shore. But unfortunately, Poe wasn’t the first to notice that he was lacking in ‘participative spirit’.

Too focused on trying to make meaningful eye contact with Poe, he didn’t spot Rey swimming out to check on him. All too suddenly she appeared before him with a light splash, startling Ben half to death.

“Oops, sorry. Off in your own world there huh?”

He could do little else but remind himself to close his mouth, forming a response was beyond his mental capabilities as his mind produced a myriad of worsening scenarios, centred around the fact he was naked and unable to use his hands to cover up if he wanted to stay afloat.

In the moments that followed, his brain running on backup power, he could not hold himself accountable for his words or actions.

“Yep, own world and all that, just uh, taking a break…” He laughed awkwardly, hoping she didn’t catch on or look down.

“Well as long as you’re ok, you know if you’re injured you need to tell me so I can fill out an incident report?”

“Yes ma’am, definitely not injured though.”

“You’re quite pale, you sure?”

“I’m always pale, basically a vampire, minus the burning or sparkling.”

It felt like his entire body rolled its eyes, a flush of sensation between clammy and chilling overcame him, as his inner voice berated his wayward tongue.

“Oookay, well I’ll leave you to it shall I? Your money, your time and all that.”

“YES…” he worked to bring his volume under control “Thank you…I um, yes, please. I'm fine hanging out here for a bit.”

“You’re _sure_ you don’t need a hand with anything?”

“Absolutely.” He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as a smile ghosted across her features.

“Positive?”

“Yep.”

Please, God, I’ll do anything you ask if you just make her go away. He prayed silently.

“Don’t need any help with lost property then?”

She looked down meaningfully and Ben almost fainted, his humiliation reaching heights he had never known before.

Curse her and her damn smirk.

 

-/- \

Rey Kanata was not of the particularly ‘thirsty’ sort; bodies were usually just bodies in her line of work, and spending all day at the beach tended to desensitise one to general appearances.

But God help her, watching Ben Solo wrestle with a damp rashie she knew was too small when she handed it to him, was too delicious a sight to tear her eyes away from.

If she could, she would have stood there drooling over him, congratulating herself on manipulating the situation slightly, but unfortunately, there were other students in need of her attention. She couldn’t afford to stand around ogling, nor could she handle a sexual harassment ‘thing’ right now. This job was the only thing keeping her afloat (pun intended) and she didn’t want to let Chewbacca down.

The old sea dog had been kind enough to offer her a position as caretaker of North Steyne on top of a steady wage, lodgings in a low rent apartment practically across the street, as well as food in the fridge; so, naturally, she was more than diligent about being a model instructor.

Goo-goo eyes were certainly not within acceptable behaviour.

Or at least that’s what she tried to tell herself. Her suddenly awakened libido was having none of that self-control business

To make matters worse, she knew he was looking back, staring at her with the same sense of impossible awe she was. Her decision to torture him a little was surprisingly simple to make, once she cottoned on to that fact.

With a quick prayer, she did the unthinkable, she attempted to flirt with Ben Solo.

First, it was her ridiculous innuendo, a nervous attempt at seduction at least managed to make him smile (worst case being he thought she was a complete psycho), a beaming expression that made her knees weak and her heart pound a stuttered rhythm in her chest. But it wasn’t quite what she was going for.

Her second attempt needed serious revision and a warning sign. Channelling Phasma’s teachings she decided that it might be wise to keep her awkward mouth shut and use ‘other means’. To quote her wise, relationship master, ‘use the tits, Rey!’

And so, her wetsuit remained low on her hips as she planted her board directly in front of him for a demonstration worthy of Aphrodite’s best schemes.

Why she was so set on drawing a reaction from him she had no idea; some sick thing inside her that wanted to see how close to the edge she could push him, a complete stranger to boot? Whatever it was it was cruel, but behind the guilt, she realised there was a distinct sense of playfulness. Not just her own either.

She wanted to be caught out and so did he. All through her dry demo (and by that she meant ‘dry sand’ and nothing else that even hinted at a reverse innuendo) they shared tiny furtive glances, flashes of tongue touched smiles and there was no denying the indents left behind on bitten lips that begged to be kissed instead.

Christ, she needed to get a grip, thankfully there was one complete solution to dispel the tension; so, with a few jokes to keep things light, she ordered them out into fresh temperatures to apply her teachings, putting an end to her beach burlesque with an unflattering struggle getting her arms into the sleeves of her steamer.

Doing her job was a small mercy. Ben and his brother seemed just fine paddling out deeper than the rest, bickering about who would do better, stand first, that kind of thing; the rest of the group was far less comfortable, requiring all her focus and attention. Honestly half the people she met would pay for her time and later admit they had never even been in a pool let alone put a toe in the ocean, meaning that she had to watch them _all_ like a hawk in order to avoid a lawsuit; today it was a welcome distraction from pale skin, broad shoulders and- Oohhhh God! She tore her eyes away in a futile bid to stop herself admiring the graceful movement of his muscles as he lifted his torso to help push through an oncoming wave (just like she’d shown him) before she gave herself an aneurysm.

Half an hour passed like that; steering her thoughts back on course, only to wonder something benign like his favourite food, and end up right back where she started. An hour and she wasn’t just interested in his physique, she wanted to know everything about him; their short, mild interaction on shore had been enough to suggest wit, his eyes were deeper and more soulful than any other man she had ever met and that knowing, intelligent smirk… It _did_ things to her.

It felt like being caught in a rip. Swimming where the water seemed calm, harmless even, only to find herself dragged out of her depth too suddenly to compensate. Panic quickly set in as she tried to remain focused; using what little language skills she had to rally the minibus of tourists into a queue, she let the mindless task of pushing them onto small breakers keep her on a simpler track.

Keeping her eye on the time she realised it had been far too long since she had turned her attention elsewhere, neglect was not a good look; a quick check and she confirmed that Poe Dameron-Solo was doing just fine, larking about seemed to be his default setting… She grimaced internally, searching for his sibling, anxiety coursing through her when she didn’t immediately spot him out the back.

Worry coursed through her, turning her blood cold; she checked the shore, looking for his board and coming up empty. She turned back out to the horizon, scanning the water in a stationary creeping line pattern until she finally caught sight of him, just beyond a group of teens on body boards.

With most of the group tuckered out and heading for their towels, she decided it was high time she check in on him. Wading out and diving under a few waves until it was deep enough to swim comfortably, her heart picked up the pace for reasons other than exertion.

He was completely oblivious to her approach, startling when she took her last stroke, splashing him a little… And then she saw…

Her mind turned to mush, the biological equivalent of the colour bars and static at the end of a VHS; weird tone and all.

He was… There was… He had noth-… She glanced again to prove she wasn’t imagining things…Nope, not even a stitch.

‘Fuck me dead!’

She’d never been more right in her life about proportion. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit; Thank you, God, for clear water. Amen.

How she managed to keep her thoughts from reflecting on her face, she had no idea. Internally, sirens were sounding out her meltdown; Externally, Rey appeared cool as a cucumber and to make matters worse, she started speaking, as if there wasn’t a major incident going down right in front of her.

Small talking like a fool to the VERY. NAKED. ADONIS RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER!

With her mouth moving of its own volition, her mind sat back and let her watch on in horror as she artlessly attempted to lead him into admitting he needed help finding his bathers; the only way to be more obvious about where her mind had gone would have been to say ‘Sure, Stranger I'll help you find your boardies… As long as you help me find an orgasm later.’ (and she very much hoped he would- nudge, nudge).

When he finally caught on, a gorgeous blush spreading over his cheeks, reaching right down to his chest, her ability to speak decided to leave her high and dry; handing the reigns back to her cock-shocked brain as if to say ‘my work here is done.’

Fortunately, he picked up where she left off.

“Actually, I wouldn’t turn down a second set of eyes, haven’t seen a floating pair of- what is it you called them before?”

“Bu-Buh- _ahem_ Boardies?”

“That’s it.”

What even was her life; one second she was Wile E. Coyote closing in on her prey and the next she was practically reduced to ashes by her own ACME hubris.

“Wuh...um, what colour were they?”

Her snarky inner voice was quick to remind her she knew exactly what shade his shorts were.

“Red; you know, like my face-” He chuckled at his own joke, putting her off with an ease that frightened her. “-Should stick out like a sore thumb, but if anyone’s spotted them, I doubt they want to go looking for the owner.”

She forced a laugh, trying to keep her sanity, while he just continued to tread water, barely exhibiting embarrassment, let alone the level of crippling anxiety she was experiencing. Evidently, he was better at hiding it, blushing aside, in comparison (hilarious considering he couldn’t keep the rest of his emotions under wraps; if ever there was an open book it was Benjamin Solo).

“Hmm, I dunno, I think any decent human would at least try.”

“Yes well, you’d hope, but then again, if the shoe were on the other foot, I’d be enough of an asshole to hand them in and tell the guard to give retrieval instructions over the P.A.”

“Calm down there, Satan.”

“I wouldn’t actually do it, honest-” he crossed his heart with a tiny, charming smile “-…But you can’t tell me it wouldn’t be entertaining to watch.”

“Well, you’ve got me there. So, back to the matter at hand, whereabouts did you lose them?”

“Near the edge of the sandbank. But I really think it would be a waste of your time searching...”

Her brain shorted out for a second and mercifully she didn’t have to question him on just how he intended to leave the water without his proper attire. She was incapable of getting past the thought ‘naked’, let alone alternative means of rectifying that condition.

“...I mean it’s no great loss, I have spare clothes in my bag if someone could grab them for me-”

There were many things Rey would forever wonder about when thinking back on this particular conversation, it would inevitably be imprinted on her memory; most of her questions regarding what she blurted out next would forever go unanswered (no matter how grateful she would eventually be for it).

“I’LL STILL HELP.”

Could she be any more obnoxious, or childish? Loudly blurting out the first, and incidentally, most illogical thought to cross her mind.

For some strange reason, she didn’t want their weird tête-à-tête to come to an end. Intent on prolonging her agony with what she knew would be a fruitless search, she made an effort to appear the opposite, looking over the waves, furtively hoping for zero flashes of scarlet amongst the white-wash.

 

-/- \

It took all of three minutes to figure out Rey was too close to the situation to be asked to assist, flattering as it was. Her ‘searching’ was going nowhere and time was almost up; it was the middle of the day and she had warned them all prior that her sessions ran on a strict schedule, the last thing he wanted was to end up in limbo between classes.

Having convinced her to call off the search, putting a halt to her Samaritan tendencies, he was incredibly grateful to no longer be at risk of an indecent exposure charge (even if it did mean a very soggy trip back to their hotel).

Still, despite all that, his heart stammered away in his chest for a wholly different reason, protesting the fact that their time together would end without ever coming to a head.

After everything he went through he couldn’t deny the chemistry between them, she was magnetic and he wanted, for the first time in God only knew how long fleeting wasn’t enough, he desperately wanted more. Therefore, he resolved himself to the only choice remaining. Mustering all the courage he could when she swam back to at least ask her out.

Somehow the fact she’d seen and very clearly liked _everything_ helped with the stress; for the first time in his life, Ben Solo wasn’t even a teensy bit afraid of a girl (because how could it get worse after that?). It was, as his father would say ‘a safe bet’. Gamble a little for a decent return (if he lost, how could it compare?)

Besides, overcoming his fear of rejection might pay off; and she had a few mysteries he wanted to crack.

To his enduring surprise, it all went rather smoothly.

So much so, that he didn’t actually have to do a thing.

In the time it took to rinse off himself and his gear, pack up his belongings and lose Poe to some shopping folly or other, Rey had also come to a similar conclusion.

His eyes already found it natural to track her and he certainly noticed her hovering nearby, looking conflicted until suddenly she was marching toward him still tentative but with a clear sense of purpose lingering behind it all.

Flicking his gaze down before she could notice he’d been staring, he used his peripheral vision to anticipate her trajectory and count the steps bringing her closer.

Eight steps: she walked back out of the shower spray and Ben had to suppress a flash of guilt being jealous of the water clinging to her skin.

Seven: dappled light engulfed her as she walked beneath the pine trees and his breath caught.

Six: the arms of her wetsuit, hanging down from her hips, swung comically in time with her gait, making her appear almost alien. He stifled a smile.

Five: she inhaled deeply, a technique he recognised as an attempt to calm and centre, her rosy lips parted slightly and he just knew that if he kissed them the way he wanted to, she’d taste like salt.

Four: she swiped back the few strands of hair plastered wetly to her face, lean muscles flexing, and he finally understood why Kaydel and Poe had been so obsessed with that beach scene from Casino Royale.

Three: the slap of her wet feet on the pavement was audible now, delicate little prints evaporating quickly under the scorching sun. His heart raced knowing she was almost within reach.

Two: she cleared her throat to announce herself, her body drawing in, an involuntary show of nerves he pretended to fiddle with his bag, finally allowing him to look at her square on, with no distractions or distance.

One: Rey was standing over him, the sun casting her shadow across his skin, water dripped from above and Ben gulped, trying to find his breath and already feeling lightheaded.

she clenched her fists by her side and chewed her lip, as though she could literally bite down on whatever she had to say. Either way, he was patient.

Her eventual sentence was a torrent of words so fast he had to mentally replay it in slow motion; then there was nothing but rapture.

“This might be forward and, Oh God, I never do this but I saw-” she directed a generalised gesture at him “-and I just… UGH I’msobadatthis.”

Her lips crashed against his, her small hand fisting in his hair dragging him up and Lord help him, he was right; She tasted like the sea and kissed just as unpredictably.

Over the last two hours, he’d imagined it a few different ways but never so urgent, so commanding… So wild.

Kissing her filled his body with so much adrenaline it felt reckless; the same way it felt right before jumping off a cliff; that last moment, still able to pull back and choosing to push through, to fall.

There was nothing fleeting about the descent though. Rey was thorough, took her time in taking what she needed from him and he was all too happy to provide; somehow it was appropriate being on his knees for that reason alone.

When she finally came up for air it was with an apology, left hanging between them awkwardly as more of a question; one he definitely needed to answer somewhere quite

“Do you, um, wanna go somewhere and talk?”

“Yeah, I think that’s probably wise…” she nodded meekly and all he could think was that it didn’t suit her.

No longer keeping up pretences, he snagged his phone out of his bag, shouldered his backpack and stood. He hadn’t planned on offering his hand, it just happened before his brain could flick the proverbial override switch, but when she took it with a reassuring squeeze, he wanted to dance around like a fool.

Turned out the place she had in mind wasn’t far at all. A little way down the road, so close he had to mentally slap himself for not realising sooner that they were climbing flights of stairs leading to her flat.

Intrusive possibilities crept in, but none were so terrifying as the ones that ended with him never seeing her again. Ben couldn’t have cared less about the rest if he was honest with himself.

He let her lead; she unlocked her door and pulled him inside. Using his body, she closed the door; pressing him against it and attacking his neck with fleeting, desperate kisses that stated; ‘talking didn’t need to be a thing right now.’

The thud of his bag hitting the floor startled them both, he flinched, and she pressed harder against him, drawing a groan from deep in his throat as her body practically fused with his.

It didn’t take long for him to reach her level of need. Learning as he went, he figured out what to do with his hands, keeping them on the border of respectful until the nymph in his arms moved them where she wanted.

When he finally got the chance to turn the tables, he didn’t hesitate. Rey’s back met the wooden door with a soft thud and tired of the height difference he bent to pick her up.

His hands held her steady but even he could tell that what he was discovering about her was making her weak. He catalogued the places he found that made her sigh, committed others to memory for the way she tightened her legs around his hips.

Talking long forgotten, lost in a haze of new lust and excitement, their primary goal had quickly changed and in the afternoon heat, who could blame them for wanting less clothing.

Her wetsuit was something of an obstacle though; skin-tight and wet, it was a menace to get off, considering they had to part for her to peel it down her lithe legs and yank it the rest of the way off.

Neither could help taking a moment to giggle childishly over it, making halfhearted jokes between kisses until they wound up sinking into the cushions of her couch.

The fabric was coarse against his skin once she divested him of his shirt. Her blunt nails running over his torso had been a worthy trade though.

Not to mention, after the wetsuit debacle, she was left in nothing but her bright yellow bikini and well, Ben Solo was nothing if not an opportunist.

“Rey?”

“Mmh?”

“Can I touch you?”

“You already are… But yeah.”

Her speech was slow and almost husky, seductive in a way he’d never expected from the bright, bubbly girl he’d spoken to before.

Ever so gently his hands followed the strings along her ribs, until he found the knot. Tugging at what he was sure was an end (God he hoped it was, he really didn’t want to fumble); He was relieved to see the material loosen, no longer stretched taut over her breasts, he was free to undo the tie at her neck and fulfil his purpose.

“Rey, I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He ran his hands over her chest and watched her modest blush spread, thumbing at her peaked nipples, overeager to replace them with his tongue. His nerves practically fried when she moaned at the attention.

He didn’t let himself idle, inexperienced as he was, learning Rey’s body was coming surprisingly easy to him. Excluding the minimal things he’d learned from his two woeful past experiences; he’d spent years listening to everyone oversharing, picked up a few things and was resourceful to a fault.

What he knew, he applied and Rey… Rey was receptive in ways he couldn’t have imagined. She wasn’t one for words, but her actions made her feelings more than clear, passion was a universal language.

Cradling her against him, teasing her the way he was; it was inevitable she would need more. Everything became something of a blur after she shifted her weight to get comfortable, pressing down on his groin slightly there was no denying how hard he was, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she repeated it, rolling her hips with a sharp intake of breath that sounded so wonderfully erotic he unconsciously tightened his grip on her hips.

“I want more.”

Her hands nimbly reached between them to work on undoing his pants and he could have sworn the second she touched him, he saw the galaxy. His head dropped back, resting on the arm of the couch as her hands worked over him until he finally regained enough command over his synapses to reciprocate.

He quickly handled the knots keeping her bikini bottoms together, gently tracing the faint indents left behind and making her shiver.

“Can I-?”

“Please Ben.”

He didn’t waste any time, slipping his hand between her legs to find her dripping. his heart almost stopped at the moan she let out when his fingers found her clit. He no longer felt quite so artless; she rocked her hips in time with his ministrations, sighing when he pressed one digit, then another (when she was ready) inside.

They stayed that way for a while, working each other up to a higher state of bliss, waiting to see which of them would break first and take the next step.

He was only mildly surprised it was her.

She shimmied down a little, apologising when she kneed him in the side, eliciting a small pained grunt which quickly became a relaxed laugh when she decided to kiss it better.

Truly, she was something else. Adorable in a way he’d never witnessed before; and then she changed right in front of him, from innocently sweet to a seductive creature sinking down on him until she was seated flush in his lap; her lips parted in a perfect ‘O’.

A few beats passed while they adjusted, only moving shallowly, their laboured breathing synced despite the fact it felt like all the oxygen had been siphoned out of the room. It was actually a welcome respite, a chance to slow down and take their time, and apparently to talk.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.”

Pulling her closer, he couldn’t help smiling widely, his face pressed into her damp hair.

“Not how I thought today would go, but Christ, Rey, I am too.” she rolled her hips again with a playful smirk “God, you feel so good.”

“Hmm, not God…”

Evidently, that was as much of a break as they were capable of taking, he pushed his hips up and managed to reach something that caused obscenities to roll off her tongue in a breathy tone he competed to recreate afterwards.

Watching her was something of an overall struggle though. His own pleasure broke through his carefully constructed restraint often enough to make him worry. He expected himself to give her that, but it was becoming less realistic with each thrust.

Still, he made a valiant attempt, rubbing small circles over her clit, transforming her into a panting, writhing mess.

“Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Mmh hmm… are y- Fuck! Are you?”

“Almost... I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, what you’re doing is- ah- amazing.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“This… Just, I don’t know, kiss me?” so few words and she had to catch her breath.

“When I, um… Where?” Jesus he hoped she caught his meaning.

“You’re fine anywhere-” she shook her arm “-Implant.”

The world tipped off its axis a little with the spike of sensation that resulted.

Right before he stretched up to oblige her request for more kissing he managed to breathe out he was clean, caught in a moment of disbelief he’d been stupid enough to forget about protection.

This time their kiss was what one would describe as filthy, all fire and biting passion. His lips throbbed with the pressure and in response, his hips bucked faster. He caught her ragged moan and kept his new pace, making a point of fucking her as deeply and thoroughly as he could before he lost himself completely.

He could feel her tightening around him, her breasts bouncing with the rippling shock of each strike, until he halted one, placing his hand over her heart (the other still very much occupied toying with her clit).

His orgasm felt like a power surge, everything burned brighter for a moment until he began to flicker, throbbing as he released inside her. His senses dulled for a moment in the aftermath, but he held on, working to bring her with him, eyes locked on hers until finally, she cried out, her orgasm crashing down and surprising them both.

Pulsing around his length, her thighs quivering either side of him as she slumped into his chest; he wondered if this wasn’t heaven. Cliche, but honest. He wanted that moment to last forever, to just stay right there between beginning and aftermath.

He had a feeling she did too, the way she nuzzled closer made his heart radiate warmth in a way it never had before. When she clambered off, her legs coltish, it was a loss.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just going to get cleaned up and I’ll grab something for you.”

Still not quite in control of himself, he nodded, falling back once she was out of sight to process what had just transpired.

He had to be insane, right?

Things never worked out well; certainly not embarrassing things like losing your shorts in the middle of a surf lesson. He wanted to pinch himself, but scrubbed his hands down his face instead, unable to comprehend that by some impossible twist of fate, everything that had happened was in fact reality.

In a matter of hours, Rey had found a way into his heart. Things that had never seemed all that appealing were suddenly top of his list and it made his head spin uncomfortably with the realisation letting go would be even harder now.

Was he supposed to just forget her, she knew he couldn’t stay and yet she’d been so willing to give him a piece of herself and he’d gone and done the same; only he’d given too much. He wondered if she knew.

 

-/- \

Rey needed a damn minute to breathe.

Locked in her bathroom, the scent of sex, sea and sweat washed down the drain (replaced with rose scented shampoo) and wrapped in her favourite towel, she started the slow process of figuring out how ‘talking’ had ended with him filling her so perfectly she could still feel it a little bit.

Ben was… An enigma, that was the only way to describe him. Something in her just gave up trying to restrain herself and so, there she was kissing him like there was no tomorrow in the doorway.

She never did anything like that… Ben Solo set foot on her beach and well, look how that ended; not that she was complaining in the least.

She didn’t regret it either.

That was the part that worried her the most, she wasn’t really a no strings type; not with her background at least. But something about Ben made her feel so wanted, so much more than just a quick impersonal fuck.

Which was why she stood, looking at her blurred features in the fogged mirror feeling guilty about running away. Again.

Sure she needed to clean up, but there was no need for her somewhat curt exit; she was better than that, he deserved better than that.

Resolved to go back out there and actually deal with the matter at hand, she towelled off and slipped on a loose, cotton dress she only wore at home, grabbed a towel for him and marched her arse back to the living room.

She was waiting when he stepped out, encircling him in a tight embrace that he quickly returned.

“If we go back to sit on the couch does that count as pillow talk?”

She beamed up at him, feeling slightly more reassured.

“Sorry I jumped you.”

“You’re sorry? Rey, I don’t think you get just how glad I am that just happened.”

“Really?”

“Cross my heart.”

“But what about-”

“Rey, don’t overthink it.” He pulled her closer, settling them into the corner of the couch. “I know I sound like a complete hypocrite, but why should we? Yes, It’s a lot to handle, we just met, but I’m willing to admit that whatever _this_ connection is I want to find out more, for as long as I can, as long as you’ll let me.”

His honesty gave her confidence; it rose from some deep unspoken place she rarely found. Among her friends she found it easier to open up, to share her feelings. In romance she often failed, thinking that if she were human and flawed they wouldn’t want her baggage. So she self-sabotaged to save herself the heartbreak of failure and abandonment.

Ben would leave, but for the first time in her life, after a mere two hours, she felt like he would be the first to actually come back; so she took a chance.

“You know, I never asked how long you and your brother are here for?”

“A few weeks. But if you’d like to, I think I’d like to spend as much of it as I can with you.”

“What about Poe?”

“Oh, he’ll be around, but honestly I think he met someone he’d rather spend time with; Besides, if you haven’t noticed, he sees me as the grumpy drag.”

“You do have a resting brood face.”  
He laughed and prodded her in the ribs

“I resent that… But I’m serious, if you want to.”

How he managed to combine shy and hopeful so perfectly in a sentence she had no idea but she could see the sincerity written all over him. Turning around to face him she pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I think this could be the start of a great summer romance, don’t you?”

 

-/- \

Part 2: epilogue, coming soon.

-/- \

**Author's Note:**

> first things first: a few definitions for those that aren't fluent in Australian colloquialisms: 
> 
> There are about a million (tbh I'm only exaggerating a little) different things to call swimwear; ranging from togs, boardies and cozzies to Budgie Smugglers or bathers... also tbh Ben having 'lightsaber red' boardies is my ultimate subtle headcanon instead of black.
> 
> A larrikin is someone that disregards convention is carefree, a joker or prankster
> 
> Rockpools are concrete pools built into rock platforms, pretty common across Sydney- a fun but dangerous thing to do is hang off the railing and let the waves hit you. 
> 
> In the Bidigal Aboriginal language, Coogee could be derived from koojah or koo-chai meaning; smelly place, stinking seaweed or the smell of seaweed drying.
> 
> bum bag, aka fanny pack (*snorts* bum-bag still sounds better)
> 
> Fin chop is a laceration caused by the fin of a surfboard (pretty nasty tbh)
> 
> Rashie aka rash vest etc...
> 
> \---
> 
> general knowledge
> 
> some (not all) locals will quietly grumble about or take the piss out of tourists (especially when they're attempting to figure out our public transport), but will privately admit we need the revenue from it and are otherwise extremely friendly/happy to give directions
> 
> Opal cards/tap on, tap off are both a godsend and a nightmare. 
> 
> George Street (the oldest street in Australia) right now is literally a Hellmouth and I wasn't kidding about the government being stupid getting rid of the trams in the first place, also the monorail (that was cool).
> 
> Fun fact about Bondi from way back: it used to have quite a large sewer outlet nearby (like 1960's) and the discoloured water that came out, earned itself the nickname 'Bondi Murk'  
> More on Bondi;  
> It's an aboriginal word meaning (noise of) water breaking over rocks or possibly 'place where a fight using boondi sticks occurred'
> 
> it is actually gorgeous, the rockpools are awesome, but if Sydney is having a scorcher you can expect crowds well into the thousands and zero space to lay a towel down. Parking there is just cray cray- 10/10 would not recommend.
> 
> Both Bondi surf clubs (yep, there are two) were established in 1907 and claim to be the first worldwide, their members invented the surf reel (a belt, attached to a rope and wound around a reel so that the rescuer and patient could be pulled back to shore).
> 
> Paddy's markets date back to 1834 and are awesome for bric-a-brac/souvenirs and have, in my opinion, one of the best food courts, I've literally been going there with my parents since I was born. 
> 
> If you do end up finding the little window beside the bakery on Dixon street, buy more than you think you need of those delicious little cream puffs, it's worth the wait too (no joke about the line).
> 
> Darling Harbour also has amazing views and attractions (I highly recommend looking for the carousel, it's beautiful) and Poe's slip/ice cream toss in the fountain actually happened to me.
> 
> Manly Ferry is the best thing you can do in Sydney on the cheap/or like me are terrified of heights and cannot handle the bridge climb. 
> 
> Speaking of the bridge, to test its strength before it opened they placed 96 railway engines on it  
> and it took 272,000 litres to paint it grey. The reason they chose grey was that it was the only colour available in the quantity required. 
> 
> Manly, Bondi and many other beaches have shark nets. 
> 
> And there are over 100 beaches in Sydney.
> 
> \---
> 
> As a lifeguard, Phasma's and Rey's 'lighthearted frustrations' do mirror my own; so here's a bit of a PSA for those who may not know.
> 
> ALWAYS Swim between the red and yellow flags and if you're on a surfboard do the opposite (so you don't annoy your friendly, neighbourhood lifeguards keeping you safe).


End file.
